


The Stars Are Laughing At Us

by Bluethorns



Category: Dragon Age
Genre: F/F, Other
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2011-07-09
Updated: 2011-07-09
Packaged: 2017-10-21 04:55:54
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 3,838
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/221163
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Bluethorns/pseuds/Bluethorns
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Written for this prompt on the kmeme: http://dragonage-kink.livejournal.com/3197.html?thread=6200189#t6200189</p><p>F!Warden shows up in Kirkwall in search of Anders. Mayhem and smuttiness ensues.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

_Suddenly, the ~~templars~~ ~~city guards~~ anti-dwarven-woman taskforce of the Merchant's Guild swooped down on our plucky heroine, calling loudly "Alert! Alert! There is a beardless dwarf with tits in Kirkwall! Everyone stay in your homes! We will take care of this confusing menace and hide her away! Stay in your homes!"  
"Oh, Ancestors, no!" A languid hand fluttered to a robust breast as she fainted, dead away, and was carted off, never to be seen again.  
Or maybe it was slavers. Carta slavers. Looking for love slaves for the lust provings._

 

Lilit snorted a laugh and shook herself out of her musings. As good a theory as any, she supposed. She'd gotten a very mixed reaction to her arrival in Kirkwall: the dwarves she met were all either staring at her chest or at her brand. Or alternating between the two. While falling all over themselves trying to impress her. There were no female dwarves to speak of. Anywhere. Humans and elves looked at her as if she were a curiosity. She was used to that, but the dwarves were unsettling.

 

 _I wonder what they'd do if I ran around doing that 'do you know who_ I am _' thing? "I'm the Hero of Ferelden, the former Arlessa of Amaranthine, a sodding Paragon, my sister's husband is the King of Orazamar, and the King of Ferelden is my former lover. No, no need to bow. Just stop staring at me!" Because that would so totally work. Sure._

 

She and Oghren quickly found a tavern reputed to have dwarven ales, and secured a pair of rooms. They were small and squalid, but for the first time in months, she had a place to sleep that was nowhere near Oghren. _No snoring, no farting, no 'accidental' groping. I could get used to this._  
Of course, Ser-Pounce-a-Lot was refusing to make use of the box of sand she'd scrounged up for him, preferring instead the middle of Oghren's bed. She'd tried locking him in her room, but somehow, the cat kept getting out. Lilit was terrified that he'd find his way into the tavern's notorious stew, but short of carrying him around the way that Anders used to, there was nothing for it. She just had to trust that he was clever enough to stay out of trouble.

 

The ale was watered down nugpiss at best (Oghren didn't seem to mind overmuch, but that wasn't exactly a recommendation), and after a week, she was still no closer to finding her missing healer. The few leads she'd gotten were all coming up dry.

 

"Ugh. They have to have something better than this. I can't take this swill any longer. It's nugpiss. I turned my nose up at better back when I was a carta bullygirl, for stone's sake!"  
"Well, gimme yours, then. No point in letting it go to waste."  
"I think it has already. A few times."  
Oghren bellowed with raucous laughter.

 

Lilit sighed.  
"You should think about heading back to Amaranthine, Oghren. Don't you miss Felsi and the nugget?"  
"Sure, but you'd miss me too much, Commander."  
"My name is Lilit. I'm not the commander anymore, remember?"  
"You'll always be _my_ commander, Commander."  
"Then I can command you to call me by my sodding name, can't I?"  
Oghren paused to figure out the logic in that. He belched. It was his standard answer when outsmarted.

 

"Right. Thought so. Another round?"  
"Sodding yes!"

 

Lilit stood, stretched like a cat, and walked to the bar, ducking out of the way of barmaids and ambling drunks. "Hey, Corff! What else have you got to drink? I can't take your nugpiss anymore."  
"Whaddaya want?"  
"A proper ale, for one."  
"Just what you've been drinking. Howzabout wine? Brandy?"  
"Wine, I think. And a pitcher of nug's finest for my friend."

 

While Norah carried the pitcher over to Oghren, Lilit took her wine and leaned against the bar, looking around the room. With her worn black leathers, waist-length black hair in a loose braid, and dark skin, she blended into the shadows along the dark wood of the bar without trying.

 

A dwarf and a human woman came in, both looking much the worse for wear. She hadn't seen either of them before, although the woman looked a little familiar, her skin nearly as dark as Lilit's own. She passed Lilit on her way to the bar, a clanking bag slung over her shoulder. The odors of sweat, stone, and tainted blood followed in her wake, and under it all, the scent of salt and tar and open water.  
"Isabella?"

 

Isabella broke off asking for baths to be sent to both her room and Varric's.  
She looked to the source of the voice, and her eyes lit with recognition. "Warden! What brings you to Kirkwall? Did you bring your handsome friend with you?"  
"Nah. He's busy doing king stuff, and he isn't exactly speaking to me at the moment."  
"A shame. He could have helped me with my bath. Scrubbed my back. But you can, sweet thing." Isabella raked her eyes up and down Lilit's form, a clear invitation in her expression.  
Lilit chuckled. "Or I could stay here and wait until you're finished."

 

"It'd be much more fun if you joined me, though."  
She looked around the room. Oghren didn't seem like he'd miss her much. "Why not. I'd love to know why you smell like the Deep Roads."


	2. Chapter 2

The room was filled with steam, splashes, sighs and the occasional moan as Isabella rode Lilit's hand and Lilit ground herself into Isabella's thigh, suckling on one of the pirate's nipples. The tub wasn't really built for two, but that didn't seem to matter to the women.  
"Hey, Rivani!"  
The door banged open, a burst of cool air swirling into the room. "Get this! Apparently, there's a dwarven woman in Kirkwall. We should go find her." Varric broke off abruptly, finally noticing that Isabella wasn't alone.  
"Ah. Sorry. I'll just leave you to your bath."  
"You could always join us, Var-- Ow! You bit me! Or you could not join us."  
Isabella pulled her lover's face away from her breast. Varric had a brief impression of large eyes, disheveled black hair, a black tattoo running from from hairline to cheek over one eye, and a wide, cheeky grin before Isabella dunked her in retaliation for the bite. Lilit came up sputtering, her hair covering her face and twining down her muscular arms. She clamped one arm over her breasts, clawed the hair from her eyes, and grinned at the dwarf in the doorway.  
"Varric, meet Lilit. Lilit, Varric."

He was handsome in that golden way she was drawn to, but wasn't used to seeing on anyone that wasn't significantly taller than herself. He looked freshly scrubbed, and his hair looked like it was still damp from his own bath. _If Anders was a dwarf, he'd look a little like that. Same sort of cultivated scruff and confidant extravagance. Lousy timing, though._

"Can we talk about my presence later? Kinda busy here." Her free hand was hidden by the water, so she slid two fingers back into Isabella, and pressed her thumb into the pirate's clit, circling slightly.  
"Yes. Later," Isabella gasped.

Without a word, Varric closed the door, making sure the lock engaged. He was pretty sure that he was still staring, slackjawed. _Did I just see that? When did my life start to resemble my stories? And what a delightful first impression I've made._ He shook his head, clearing the haze of bemusement, and headed towards the stairs.

\--

Lilit was rebraiding her hair while Isabella idly ran her fingers up and down her spine.  
"Why Kirkwall?"  
"Why not Kirkwall?" Isabella sighed. "I was shipwrecked, found my way here, and fell in with a band of misfits not unlike the ones you were with when I met you."  
"And the Deeps?"  
"Following my misfit friends in search of loot and enough coin for a new ship."  
"Wouldn't it be easier to rob caravans or something? Less dangerous."  
Isabella snickered. "You don't know the half of it. Varric will tell it better than I can. And judging by the way he was staring at you, sweet thing, I'm sure he'd love to tell it to you. All night long, over and over."  
"Bella!"


	3. Chapter 3

Varric was holding court at the table in his rooms, enthroned in his chair. Lilit felt a pang of envy tinged with an odd sort of homesickness. _I could have this if I wanted to go back and claim the House._ The small group included a white-haired elf with silver tattoos, a Dalish woman, a red-headed woman in armor she'd seen with the Guard on her first night in town, and a couple of people she recognized as regulars from downstairs.

"Rivani! I was telling everyone about our recent adventures."  
"Ugh. I just got the stink off me. I'm not ready to relive it just yet."  
"At least you had help with the stink."  
If Lilit blushed, it was hidden by her skin and the dim lighting, but she grinned. "So you were in the Deep Roads, too?"  
"Come sit on my lap and I'll tell you the whole story." Varric patted his thigh in invitation.  
Lilit arched a brow at the rogue. "I can hear from here, unless you intend to whisper."  
"Can't blame me for trying."  
This earned a grin from both women.

She had just settled into a cushioned seat with Isabella, a tankard of ale in front of her that Varric swore came from his private stash and bore no resemblance to anything Corff would serve.

"Beggin' yer pardon, serah, but your friend is snoring awful bad and won't wake up and could you come down and get him before he drives off the other patrons?"

A loud snore echoed up from the taproom.

"Oh, nugbits. Let me get that oaf up to his bed, and I'll listen to anything you want to tell me. Or at least, be able to listen. He'll keep that up for at least an hour. And Corff threatened to cut us off if I left him snoring down there again."

Lilit disentangled herself from the pirate and edged around the table. Varric trailed after her.

Poking and prodding rarely worked when Oghren was this far gone. Nothing short of a battle cry would wake him, and while that was generally effective, talking down a blind drunk berserker who has just been awakened from the dwarven equivalent of Warden Nightmares wasn't a simple task. The easy answer? More alcohol. Lilit dipped her fingertips in the dregs of the pitcher in front of him, and flicked droplets onto his face. "Hey, Og. More beer!"

"Mohr bheeer?" A woozy garble.  
"More beer. It's upstairs. Let's go get it."  
"Lhasht time you shaid that, you jusht wanted to get mhe in bed." He chuckled, a dirty, leering sound. "Alone. Yer a therrible thease."  
"Come on, or the schleets will get you."  
"Theresh no schleeds."  
"Fine. I'll tell Felsi what you told me the other night."  
"Thasht's a low blow. Wait. Whadid I tell you?"  
Lilit smirked. "That's for Felsi to know. Now, off to bed with you."  
"You're shen- sending up more ale, right?"  
"Yes, fine. I'll have something sent up to you."

In the end, it took Lilit and Varric to help the warrior up the stairs and to his room. "This is usually a closet, you know."  
"Figured. But it keeps him away from the innocent and undeserving. Mine's not much bigger."  
"So you're not with him?"  
"With him- oh. Oh. No. Oghren's one of my best friends, and has been at my side for more and weirder things than I want to think about. I just wish he'd go home to his wife. I mean, if he sobered up, and bathed occasionally, maybe. I'm not really his type, anyway. Not nearly crazy enough."  
"I'd think you'd be any man's type."  
"Yours at any rate, apparently."

"What brings you to Kirkwall? As delightful as Isabella's charms are, I doubt you came here for her."  
"Looking for my friend. He's supposedly in Darktown, but I've been scouring the place for a week with no luck. On the upside, I now know Darktown as well as I once knew Dusttown, and Kirkwall is short several Carta thugs."  
Varric looked at her brand. He'd been trying to ignore it, but she didn't exactly go out of her way to hide it.  
Lilit quirked an eyebrow at him. "Yeah, I'm a brand. Cope. I'm a surfacer now, though."  
"What was it like, living under all that rock?"  
"Donno. Just life, I guess. Smelled terrible. Never really thought about it at the time, and I couldn't exactly go back after I left. Wasn't much to go back for, anyhow."

"So, this friend of yours. He got a name?"  
"Anders. Though he might be going by something else this time." Varric didn't react. He knew perfectly well where Blondie had been lately, and while he judged Lilit to be a good sort, he wasn't going to betray his friend for a smile.  
"This time?"  
"He's a healer, throws a mean fireball, and has made a career of escaping from things."  
"Why are you looking for him?"  
"Because I have his cat. And something terrible obviously happened after I was," she paused a moment, "called away."  
"I'll see if I can come up with any information."  
"I'd appreciate that. Hey, Varric?"  
"Hmm?"  
"Why are there no dwarva women in Kirkwall?"  
"I always figured they were just hiding."

Varric might occasionally be distracted by a nice pair of.. eyes. Eyes. Not that her.. eyes, dammit. But never let it be said that he couldn't put pieces together. The name Oghren was familiar and it itched. Where had he heard that name? And Lilit. Also a familiar name. Looking for Anders. Who used to be a Warden. And had his cat.

"You're the Hero of Ferelden, aren't you?" Varric tried to keep his composure.  
"Sod. I'm going to have to change my name, aren't I?"  
"I thought you'd be ten feet tall and have lighting shooting out of your eyes."  
"Nope. That would have been Sten and Morrigan. Me? Not so tall, not so magical." She changed the subject. "So, shall we get back to your grand telling of _Isabella and Varric tour the Deeps_? Will you do the voices?"  
"I think I'm going to like having you around, Grey."


	4. Chapter 4

Lilit laughed. "You only say that because you don't know any better yet. Trouble finds me. I haven't had to seek it out in a long while."  
"It goes with that whole Grey Warden thing."  
"Probably. That, and I'm apparently a sucker for anyone with an impossible task and no coin to pay for it."  
"I can't wait until you meet Hawke. It's like you're twins, but totally aren't."

They walked side by side back to Varric's rooms, the sound of Oghren's snores finally fading behind them.

\---

 

Everyone hung on Varric's every word. He might be a little inclined towards exaggeration, but it was always in service of the tale. There were some gaps that felt like details were left out, but on the whole, it rang true. She shivered at Bartrand's betrayal, and cringed at the description of some of the rock creatures the adventurers had had to fight. No broodmothers, though, for which she was grateful. And no talking darkspawn. Also good. Sandal's wandering off sounded about right. She would have to compare notes with Varric at some point, regarding the massacre when she'd found him at Fort Dracon. The Feddics had left shortly after the battle at Denerim, and she'd wondered what had become of them.

 

Varric was describing the fight against the demon feeding on those rock creatures, when a tall woman burst into the room. She had close-cropped red hair and was muscled like a warrior, with a huge blade at her back. Red-rimmed eyes looked out from a grubby face, etched with tears.  
Disregarding the presence of everyone in the room, she fell to her knees and wrapped her arms around Varric's waist, burying her head into his shoulder. "They found her while we were gone." Immediately, Varric wrapped his arms around the crying woman. He caught Isabella's eye and nodded briefly. Lilit guessed that this was probably Hawke.

 

"Annnd that's our cue. We can finish this downstairs. Or in my room, if you're all feeling adventurous."  
Downstairs seemed to be the consensus. Lilit slipped away from the group as they descended the stairs, and padded down the hall to her room. Pounce was curled up into a ball in the middle of her bed.   
"Well, cat, we're not really any closer to finding him, but I think we're on the right path."

After checking the lock (and jamming a chair against the door - there were rogues about, after all), she quickly stripped, and slipped into an old tunic, soft and grey with washing. She wasn't certain, but thought it might have been Alistair's at some point. She eyed the cat. "You've gotta move, salroka. You can settle back in once I'm in bed, but you have to move first."  
Pounce opened one eye to look at her, closed it again, and wiggled, exposing his belly for scritches.

"You're terrible."  
Lilit sighed, and sat down next to the cat, already rubbing circles with her fingertips, much to Pounce's delight. She could feel his purr more than hear it. "Cuteness may be a weapon, but you've still got to move, furball."

Pounce made a disappointed squawk as Lilit stopped her scritches, and wormed her hands underneath him. Before she could lift him, he stood, stretched, and plopped less than gracefully onto the floor. He turned his back on Lilit, who wasn't at all fooled by his disdain. He'd be curled up behind her knees in no time.

 

She climbed into bed. Between the lingering relaxation from her interlude with Isabella and the ale, she quickly fell asleep.  
She only woke with nightmares twice. A quiet night, then.

 

When she woke up, she found that Pounce had insinuated himself into her arms, with his head wedged under her chin.   
"Oh, kitty. I'm going to miss you something fierce when I have to give you back," she murmured, as she rubbed his head with the tip of her nose.


	5. Chapter 5

After a time, Ser Pounce-a-Lot wiggled free of Lilit's hold. She rolled over, and stared at the bottom of the empty bunk above hers, her hands beneath her head. _More searching for Anders today? Or see if I can't spend some time with Varric?_

She was intrigued by the storyteller. He was appealing on many levels, not the least of which was how unlike any other dwarf she'd met he was.

She wondered at what had distressed Hawke, if the woman last night had indeed been Hawke. Varric's tale had featured Hawke prominently, along with Isabella ("Rivani"), and a mage he referred to as "Blondie." It seemed that Varric had a hard time with given names, consistently preferring surnames or nicknames. That he'd already given her one charmed her. Certainly better than being called 'Warden' or 'Commander' All The Time by people who ought to have known better. Or Brand, though that mostly didn't seem to be as big a deal on the surface.

 _Not my place to fix it. Just find Anders and sort out what happens next._  
What _was_ next? She had no idea. She was pretty sure that she was done with being the Warden Commander. When Weisshaupt had called her away from Amaranthine, the sot they'd put in charge of the Arling had managed to squander all the good will she'd built up. _I should have insisted on leaving Nathaniel in charge. Fought harder for it._ Her little family of misfits, those that were left after the battle for the Vigil, had scattered. And according to the First Warden, seemingly every single decision she'd made had been wrong. She figured that it just really stuck in his craw that two untrained Wardens ended a blight in a year, when all the previous ones had gone on for decades. Also that they had no hero to entomb, as both she and Alistair were still alive. _We should have lied through our teeth and claimed that Riodian took the final blow, and that the whole falling off the Archdemon thing was someone else. Too bad so many other people saw that._

 _Any means necessary, my ass. It helped to be helpful, rather than single-minded, even if it was a pain in the ass at the time. Having allies made all the difference._

\---

Armed and armored, with her few small treasures tucked securely inside her tunic (she knew better than most that locks were more like suggestions), Lilit unjammed the chair from the door. Time to wake Oghren.

Pounce followed, twining around her ankles, as if asking to be picked up.  
She obliged him, draping him across her shoulders like a large, heavy, purring stole. "I swear you've gained weight in the last week, cat. Is Corff fattening you up? Or has Norah fallen prey to that pitiful noise you make when you think you can convince someone that you've never, ever eaten, in your whole life?"  
The cat murred in response. "Yeah, thought so." Lilit chuckled.

\----------

Aris Hawke woke in an unfamiliar bed. Thistle wasn't at her feet, and there was no bunk above within arm's reach.   
The pillow smelled slightly of ale, of ink, and something darker and maddeningly familiar.

She turned her head, and sat up with a start when she realized that she was in Varric's room. In Varric's bed.   
Alone. She felt a momentary pang of disappointment at that realization.

Other than a throbbing skull, she felt fine. Nothing Bethy couldn't fix.  
Oh, Bethany!  
 _It's not like she's dead or anything. Just.._

"Hey now, I thought you cried yourself out last night." Varric came bustling in, a sheaf of papers in one hand, and a plate in the other. "Here, I brought you breakfast."

"Where did you sleep?"  
"You don't want to know."  
"Varric.." It was a warning tone he'd gotten to know all too well.  
"With that dwarf warden. Not the cute one, unfortunately. Her door was jammed. The other one. Who snores like a dragon's roar and farts brimstone and wakes up from nightmares, grunts, and falls right back asleep."

Aris paused a second to try to take all that in.  
"You tried to pick the lock on someone's room?"  
"It was her or Isabella, and Rivani would expect something in return for the use of her bed."  
"You could have sent me home, you know. Or given me the floor. It's not like we haven't been sleeping rough for weeks now."  
"I could have, but what kind of friend would I be?"  
"It was your first night back in what passes for civilization, you ass. You should have had your bed."  
"You needed it more."


End file.
